Finally
by SMW
Summary: Set after the events of "A Perfect Blood," Rachel finally realizes the depth of her emotion for Ivy.
1. Chapter 1

These characters belong to Kim Harrison. I seek no profit or gain for this story, and rather the act of writing it, is a testament to how much her characters came to life for me. After finishing "A Perfect Blood" a few days ago I realized that I probably would not see Ivy and Rachel happily ever after. I had to get this out of my system - and perhaps I felt like I needed to do it for Ivy's sake.

At times, I'm an idiot. That's really all there is to it. The church was silent - empty. Jenks and the kids were outside, basking in the unseasonably warm air. Ivy was out, probably with Nina, doing whatever living vampires did with each other. It was this thought that created the most discomfort, and I shifted in Ivy's chair, pulling my legs up under me. I could smell her around me, vampire incense wrapping me up, holding me tight, and I closed my eyes. _ Ivy. _God, I was such an idiot, and the silence around me confirmed it, my thoughts with nothing to do but echo in it.

Throat tight, I remembered her kiss in the hotel room in San Francisco, and brought my fingers to my lips. With the barest of touch, she'd pulled so much emotion from me I shook. I wondered about this sensation, and fought to squelch it down. If I opted not to act on it, it didn't matter how I felt. But did I still opt not to act on it? Did I still opt not to take that chance? I thought back to Jenks, earlier in the week, after Ivy left, telling me, "Tinks testicles, Rache. She's falling for Nina." The thought had plagued me since, and it worried me.

I'd had no such issues with Glenn. No feelings of discomfort - but Nina... This felt different and I really didn't like it. Maybe it was that I felt so awkward in her presence. Despite fighting a bloodlust bender because of an undead vampire's use of her body, she was... What was she? Beautiful. Tall. Athletic. Composed. And she had all that damned vampire grace and agility that I simply could not compete with. Wait - did I feel like I needed to compete? The thought chilled me and I shook, trying to hold still. I felt threatened. Really threatened. I stood then, abruptly, leaving Ivy's chair and wandered into the kitchen. I'd bake. That's what I would do.

I pulled pans from cupboards, splashed flour about, dropped eggs on the floor, and on chocolate chip cookie dozen four, I heard Ivy's bike in the drive, and jumped, wiping flour across my forehead. I didn't expect her home so early. I took a deep breath, still uncertain of my feelings, and heard the door open. I scrambled to clean up some of the mess, but made it worse, splashing a gallon of milk, which puddled across the floor. I grabbed the dishtowel, and down on my hands and knees, wiped furiously on the floor. As I stood, I bumped the bag of flour with my shoulder, and it spilled, falling everywhere. Cursing, I stood, tears welling in my eyes, from an unknown origin, and let my hands hang to my sides. I felt Ivy's hand on my shoulder, and I can't imagine how the kitchen looked to her intensely organized, obsessive compulsive eyes.

"Rachel?" she said, with a question, her voice soft behind me. She could read my emotions, I knew, through her vampire super senses, and it left me feeling vulnerable and useless, because I, too often, am utterly clueless. Not on purpose, and not because I don't care, but because my brain runs so hard, so fast, so often it's hard for me to slow down and allow the smaller moments to add up to something bigger. By the time I'd done that with Ivy, it was too late and she was moving on.

I turned to face her and said, "I'm so tired, Ivy. I'm just so tired." I felt bone weariness exhaustion threaten to fold me in two. I felt the weight of struggling so hard, so long, and I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her waist, resting my head on her shoulder. I pulled her to me, and she stood, arms at her waist, as I clung to her. She was leaving me, and I couldn't stand it. I just couldn't stand it. In her arms, my weariness released, and I sighed even as I trembled.

Trent had rescued me twice recently, and it should have been Ivy. It was always Ivy. It was Ivy I thought on to return home after a trip through the ley lines. It was Ivy who scooped me up and took me to the ambulance because she knew what was best, and ignored my protestations. It was Ivy I thought of while locked in the cage, and it was Ivy I longed to return to then, too. That I had missed this for so long left me feeling a bigger fool than I felt when my fuzzy ass and legs were video taped and broadcast on the news.

"Rachel?" she asked again, still stiff as a board as I held her tight. I longed for her to wrap her arms around me, but she wouldn't. She'd moved on. Nina, I thought bitterly. Nina. Suddenly, Nick, Kisten, Marshall, and Pierce flashed before my eyes, and I gasped, thinking how she must have felt to see me with them.

"I'm sorry," I shuddered, still clinging to her. "Oh my God, Ivy. I'm so sorry." I reached my hands further up her back, pulling her closer at the middle of her shoulder blades. I'd come to terms with being a demon before coming to terms with how I felt about her. I was awful. I'd screwed it up. Pushed it away. I liked sex, there was no doubt, and was quite good at it, regardless of my partner, but I was terrified of real emotion. If Ivy struggled mixing sex with blood, I struggled mixing love with sex. God, we were both so fucked up.

She placed her hands on my arms finally, and pushed me away from her a bit so she could look in my eyes. Her eyes were solidly brown, and she studied me. "It's just milk and flour," she smiled, wiping a tear from my cheek. I grimaced and dropped my head.

"It's not that and you know it," I mumbled, longing to return closer to her, but she wouldn't let me.

I felt her fingers on my chin, tilting my gaze up to her. She bit her lip, and closed her eyes briefly before leaning forward to rest her head against my forehead. "You have terrible timing, you know?" I nodded, moving my hands to grasp the collar of her shirt, pulling her to me.

"I'm so sorry," I said again, pulling her.

"It's just so you," she softly laughed, her voice sad but amused. I shrugged.

I couldn't believe I wanted Ivy to kiss me, but there you have it. I couldn't really articulate the need rushing through my body, or the emotion spilling from the depth of me, but I know it now to be love. And even as it scared the shit out of me, I finally was too tired to resist it any longer. "Ivy..." I said, opening my eyes to meet hers, now rimmed with brown, the black of her pupils dilating. I reached my hands from her collar to cup her face, and ran my thumbs across her cheeks. My hands shook, and adrenaline spiked in me, anticipating movement. She sighed, and shuddered, and my heart pounded. "Ivy...?" I asked, pulling her face closer. She stopped me with her hands on mine, pulling them off her face. But she intwined our fingers as she took a step back. I shook, emotion rising inside me, and clenched her hands tightly with my own. She stood silent, not meeting my eyes, fixing her gaze on something over my shoulder.

Moments passed, and my pulse sped up, fear, I think, that she'd reject me. God, I was arrogant. Ivy'd been in love with me for years, and I'd used her while avoiding myself. I'd flaunted my relationships with men in front of her, albeit inadvertently, and I now I wanted her to just want me because I'd finally figured it out. Unconscious people hurt people, and that was me. Once again, I said, "I'm sorry, Ivy. I'm an idiot." She laughed, and looked at me, and I managed a small smile. She reached up and touched my hair.

"You even have flour in your hair." I gasped, touching my hair with my hand. She smiled, and pulled my hair through her fingers, attempting to shake it out. She shook her head. "This requires a shower." Her hands trembled though, and she was working hard to control her bloodlust. I could see the strain in her eyes, and on her face, and I didn't want her to. In a swift movement, I wrapped my arms around her neck, cupped her neck in my hand, and pulled myself up to her lips. My lips met hers, crashing into her from the speed of my movement, but once there, I softened, kissing her. I urged my tongue forward, across her incredibly soft lips, and closed my eyes. She stood, not moving, or meeting me, until I moaned, pulling myself further up into her arms, pressing the length of my body against hers. With that, she responded, wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling me possessively against her. She demanded entrance to my mouth with her tongue and I complied, opening for her. She lifted me to sit on the counter, claiming me with her mouth, and I wrapped my legs around her hips.

Holy cow, I was kissing Ivy. And I liked it. Tears spilled from my closed eyes, and I sobbed into her mouth, my hands wrapping in her hair. I pulled her mouth to mine with ferocity, even as a part of me wanted to push her away. I just couldn't stop. I almost lost her. She pulled away from me abruptly, pushing my hands from her hair, and took four large steps back. I gasped, reaching for her, my legs suddenly empty, my hands flailing in the air. "Ivy..." I gasped, jumping from the counter. I stopped, seeing her pressed hard against the stove, hands clenching the metal tightly.

"What are you doing?" she gasped, barely containing her bloodlust. Her eyes were scared and pitch black, and she shook, sweat trickling down between her breasts. I held perfectly still, and put my hands down. I'd stood with them in the air, wanting to reach her.

"Ivy," I said, "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to hurt you. I..." I paused. What do you say? _I'm sorry I've strung you along for years, and now that you're finally moving on, with someone who can meet all your needs, I want you? _"My God, Ivy. All this time you thought you were the monster. And it was me." My head dropped in shame, the weight of my own denial and shame rolling off me. Why did she stay for so long? I didn't deserve her. Ivy didn't deserve this. "I'm sorry. I know you're falling in love with Nina, and I know you've let go of me. This is so unfair of me, and I'm sorry. It's just... the idea of you leaving, the idea of you not being here..." I paused, collecting my thoughts, watching her movements, looking at the veins straining in her hands, gripping the stove. "I felt it in San Francisco, and it hurt...but we came home and nothing really changed. Glenn didn't matter, not really, and I knew it. Daryll either. I just didn't care. But Nina..." I paused again, taking a breath. "It feels like that can be real, and feeling that, was like being bitch slapped by the banshee. I was in your chair tonight while you were out, and I realized..." My voice trailed off, and Ivy's eyes met mine, piercing, furious, and full of promised ecstasy. My breath grew ragged at the pheromones she was sending my direction, and I felt a spike of arousal run from my neck to my groin, and I stepped back, steadying myself on the counter. Ivy sensed it, and stepped forward one step.

"Realized what?" she demanded, her body tight, her jaw clenched. She took another step toward me, and I shivered, not in fear, but in anticipation.

I gulped, passion spilling over me, fed by her vampire pheromones, and my overwhelming emotion for her. I whispered, my eyes not leaving hers, "That I love you. That you're home to me." With that her movements stopped. She stopped, breathing deeply, her hands hanging at her sides, and dropped her head.

"Rachel..." I heard her whisper and I took a tentative step forward. Sensing my movement, her head jerked up and she looked to run. Her eyes no longer studied me like a predator, but silently plead with me in her own naked fear. I reached out to her, waiting for her to engage me, and she choked back a sob, tears falling from her eyes. "Rachel..." she whispered again and I completed my journey, coming to rest with my arms around her neck, my lips pressed against hers. She kissed me back, with more tenderness than I thought her capable, and as I floated in sublime arousal, my body warming to her touch, she scooped me into her arms, and started down the hallway with me, kicking the door to her bedroom open so she need not stop kissing me. With infinite gentleness, she laid me on her bed, before settling next to me. She looked at me, with the same fear in her eyes, and said, "Are you sure about this? Because if you're not, and we do this, I couldn't..." she stopped, her eyes looking down. I tipped her chin up to meet her eyes again, and she said, "take it. I couldn't take it." I nodded and kissed her reassuringly and held her close.

Her bloodlust was checked, for the time, and I wondered at it. She'd come so far. Healed so much. And I could destroy it all if I wasn't certain. But I was. And I wanted to show her. With both hands on her face, I pressed my lips to hers and said, "I give you this. You can have all of me." Ivy's eyes grew big, and tears brimmed, and I met her lips with mine, pulling her to top of me. I wrapped her in my legs, and pulled her close, as her hands ran up my body, grasping my hips to urge me closer. Her face in my neck, I tipped my head as far back as I could and urged her mouth down to my scar. Her breath on my neck sent shudders through my body, and I ground my hips up. She shook her head, and pulled back from me, running her hands down my body, her eyes alight in wonder. "I can touch you?" she asked, hesitant, and I nodded. Her long pianist fingers pulled my flannel pants down, and my t-shirt over my head. I was braless and found myself blushing under her gaze. My nipples were rock hard, and the scent of my arousal washed over us. She ran her hand across my chest and my stomach, then trailed the same path with her fingertips. Goose bumps rose on my skin, and I shook. I reached up to her pull her down to me. It was too much - watching her touch me with worship I didn't deserve. I sobbed into her mouth and worked to free her from her tight black t-shirt so I could feel her skin. She helped, ripping it off her head, and unclasped her bra for me while unbuttoned her jeans. Holy crap, Ivy didn't wear underwear. I wanted her as close as I could get her, and I couldn't stand the interruption of her clothes. With a deft movement I barely registered, Ivy removed my underwear, and I grimaced with the realization I'd not shaved in a week.

Ivy smiled at my face, and I swatted at her, my hands still shaking, my eyes still damp. "I've been distracted..." Ivy covered my mouth with her lips, settling on to me, nestling a thigh between my legs and gasped, pressing my sex up against her. The sensation of her smooth leg against me was shocking, and I opened my eyes in wonder, my head thrown back in pleasure as I wondered why this had scared me so much. Why had I so insistently clung to my heterosexuality? That aspect of my identity had seem so fixed, so immutable, and like everything else that had me Rachel Morgan, I'd just tossed it out the window tonight. The realization made me giggle, and I smiled, and pulled Ivy's mouth to mine, swallowing her with a kiss. She pulled away and trailed kisses down my neck, and collarbone, moving to my breast, pulling it between her lips. I leaned back, running my fingers through her hair, holding her in place, as I rocked against her thigh. The emotion and desire rushing through me not a product of pheromones, as I recognized them, but a product of my love for her. In the moment I realized this, Ivy did too, and she sobbed against me, moving further down my body.

She rested her face against my stomach, rubbing her cheeks there, before planting small kisses around my belly button, dipping her tongue there as I squirmed under her, my hands still tangled in her hair. She was worshiping my body, and it was an entirely new experience for me. I watched her face, serious and intent. My Ivy - always so serious. I closed my eyes, enjoying the pressure of her body between my thighs now, and strained against her, my hips rocking, my center aching. In another swift movement, she was gone, now settled fully between my legs, her shoulders under my thighs, and I gasped, meeting her eyes. In the next moment, her lips met my center, and I gasped, arching from the bed, fingers digging into her hair, as her tongue swirled around my engorged sex. She made love to my core like she was kissing my mouth, and I'd never felt anything like it. Not even a power pull... Her lips were extraordinary, and I nearly crawled out of my skin when three long fingers slipped inside of me. The twin sensations left me shaking more than I had been and I was too aroused to care how exposed I was when she lifted my legs to gain more access. She made low guttural sounds, and it was obvious she was enjoying herself. I sat up on my elbows, after disentangling my fingers from her hair, and reached to grasp her arm and press her fingers farther into me. She met my eyes, seeing my intent, and with a smile in her eyes, slipped another finger into me. My elbows caved and I pressed hard into her, my arousal readying to peak. My hands tingled. My sex throbbed. A rising tide of emotion grew inside of me and spread outward, taking all of my pent up desire with it. I shook from head to toe, gasping, looking to meet her eyes again. "Ivy..." I said, loudly, "Oh my god, Ivy!" My body jerked upward as I peaked, the orgasm rolling over and through me. I rode it out, and she stayed with me, and from me she drew my essence into her mouth, as I flooded into her. Finally, I laid flat, my legs stretching, and I felt her fingers slip from me.

I reached down and pulled her up to me, hands on her face, kissing her, wrapping her in my arms, holding her between my legs. "Ivy," I whispered between kisses. Her eyes were black, and she slipped her long arms under me, one under my hips, one under my shoulders, pulling me to her possessively. I wanted her to. I slipped my arm around her neck, holding her hair back, and trailed the other down the soft skin of her naked back, resting on her lower back, pressing her into me. I couldn't get her close enough, and still longed for me. She read the change in my thoughts, and I broke away from our kiss when her lips stilled, pulling her face to my neck. Her breath on my neck sent a new shiver of desire through me, and I pressed her closer. "Please," I whispered. "It's okay. You won't hurt me. I know you won't. You won't bind me. You won't hurt me. I give this to you."

I knew how desperately she craved my blood, and how she hated herself for the desires she could not totally control. I wanted her to take all of me, and I wanted to soothe her fears. I could give this to her. I wanted to give this to her. Her lips worried the skin around my scar and I pressed her harder between my hips, my body still quivering after orgasm, but I still needed more. I could feel her hesitation, and she tried to pull away, but I held tight, my legs turning to vice grips. She struggled but I held her in place, pressing her face closer. She shuddered and sighed and finally, oh my God, finally, I felt the slip of her teeth in my neck, as she sliced into my skin. I gasped, fingers knotting in her hair, and I ground my sex against her. I felt her aura wrap around me, and mine around hers before they united, becoming one.

Sipping from my neck, Ivy rocked between my thighs, lighting me anew and I met her thrusts, the pleasure from the vampire bite spreading through my body, confusing itself with the sensation of Ivy's sex against mine. The sensation of meeting her wetness with my own, while her teeth drew blood from me, our auras merged into one left me writhing under her, arching into her, grasping, clawing at her back. She drew away from my neck, licking my wounds and I cried out. Struggling to find my voice, I pressed her face back down, while I arched my hips up into her. "Ivy, don't stop. Please..." With encouragement she entered me again, and I rode the waves of ecstasy flooding my body. I ran my hand up and down her back, and stopped on her hips when I felt her body tensing. Timing my release with her, I followed her over the edge. Her teeth slipped from me as she arched, her head thrown back, and I clasped her cheeks, covering her mouth with my own as I shuddered into her, tasting my essence and blood on her tongue. She untangled her arms from beneath me and resting her entire weight on top of me, reached to cup my face in her hands. I placed my hands on her hands and we lay like that for nearly half an hour, suspended, embraced in the same aura, enthralled in kisses, until finally, Ivy rolled from me, and gathering me into her arms, pulled my back against her front, wrapping me entirely in her body, her long arms around me, my hands tangled in hers as I drifted to sleep, utterly contented, a demon with her vampire.

I stood in the kitchen, waiting for coffee to brew. I'd disentangled myself from Ivy about five minutes before to use the bathroom and brush my teeth, and now stood, my hands on the counter, the afternoon sun stinging my eyes. My robe hung open and I started absently out the window, watching the wind blow leaves through the garden. I was ignoring the mess I'd have to clean up at some point. Once brewed, I filled two cups of coffee and moved slowly down the hallway. I pushed open Ivy's bedroom door, and shut it tightly behind me. I didn't want Jenks or Jenks' kids coming in here today. Sitting the cups on the nightstand, I settled down on the bed, propping myself up on the headboard. Ivy slept, still, and I reached to push the hair back from her eyes, as I picked up my cup of coffee. Ivy. _My Ivy._ I whispered, "I don't think you're really still to sleep. You just wanted coffee in bed." Ivy grinned, slyly, and opened an eye. "I knew it!" She sat, slowly, and untangled her legs to the other side of the bed. I watched her stand, her bare back beautiful. She smiled over her shoulder, and walked to her bathroom, lightly closing the door. I waited patiently, smiling into my coffee, when she emerged a few minutes later wearing her robe. She crawled up the bed to sit beside me. I handed her the cup of coffee and we sat in silence.

I sensed her question before she asked it. "_Are you sure?_" she'd asked me last night, with such vulnerability and tenderness. I answered it last night, but I'd answer it as many times as she needed me to. I reached for her hand, encircling her fingers with my own. I looked at our merged hands, and then met her frightened eyes, smiling. "I'm sure, Ivy. Finally."


	2. Chapter 2

After receiving a handful of messages asking for the same story from IVY's POV, I thought I'd give it a shot. I don't own Ivy or Rachel, or anything in their world. That belongs to Kim Harrison.

The bike hummed between my thighs, and I turned corners sharply. I felt good. I learned to savor these moments – when my mood lifted and rested in contentment, even if peace was still too far out of my reach. I stopped at a stop light, revving my engine. A car full of humans revved next to me, and I glanced at them. Young boys, maybe sixteen or seventeen. The passenger rolled down his window. "Want to ride me, baby?" The car shrieked with laughter and I pushed up my helmet visor, pulling an aura. I felt my eyes turn black and I smiled showing a slip of teeth. He scrambled back away from the door, frantically rolling the window up. The raced through the red light, squealing tires. God, I loved doing that. In moments like this, I loved being a vampire.

I'd spent the night with Nina. I found my thoughts drifting to her often. I'd see the glint of her hair in the sun. The small dimple in the corner of her mouth when she smiled. The smell of her skin after we sparred. My stomach dipped, and my breath caught as I pulled on the freeway, wind racing past me at seventy-five miles an hour. With her I almost felt redeemed. There was no need to feel any sort of shame for my tortured and bloody past. When she stared at me through dark eyes, I saw a mirror image of myself from years past. Perhaps, I thought, if I let myself love her I'd learn to love myself. When I met Rachel, my world was so dark, and she brought light. Now, I held my own patches of light, and those spilled further and further into the recesses of the pain I'd harbored for far too long. And I found I wanted to share that light with Nina. I wanted something to hold onto, and I needed to let go of Rachel.

I revved down and into the garage, walking slowly up the front path to the church. I loved it here. But I needed to move out, and move on, in earnest, and I needed to do it soon. Nina suggested as much tonight, and though our relationship had not become physical yet, should it, she'd have every right to insist I leave Rachel. I paused at the front door, studying our sign. I remembered helping Rachel hang it. I felt tears threaten and my heart clench. I was tired of letting go. My entire life felt like an unending process of letting go – of one fear after another, one person after another… It's all I ever did. The universe, in its wickedness, conspired to torture me for years and then strip the layers of that pain off, one after another. I longed to hold onto to something good, and was resolved that I would.

I leaned against the wall, my hand on the door to steady me. If I didn't know better, I'd say that I'd begun to have panic attacks since I kissed Rachel in San Francisco and said I was letting her go. I'd been struck with random moments of dizziness, the enormity of my emotion rising through me, seeking exit. The problem was that I had difficultly expressing it in any meaningful way. I could hit, bite, and kick. I could also be ridiculously scary. But finding a way to articulate my feelings… Well, I often failed miserably. Feeling a fool, I sunk down to the ground, legs stretched in front of me. I needed to calm myself before walking in. I crossed my ankles, admiring my leather books, the buckle catching the porch light and took calming breaths, feeling my equilibrium return.

Rachel was inside there, doing God knows what, making God knows what kind of mess, and I had to prepare myself to say goodbye to her. Not tonight, but one night soon. She's cry and resist, and insist I stay. Jenks would be pissed, but would understand. I folded my knees and pulled my legs up some, and leaned forward, hands on the ground, and forced myself up.

I opened the door to the smell of Rachel frantic. It was difficult to articulate the smell, but if anyone asked I'd tell them it's a bit like rosewood, grapefruit, and habanero peppers. I'd never tell Rachel that. She'd have a fit. Immediately, my pulse quickened with my pace, and I followed the scent, worried. I chided myself for my reaction, but could not quell it. (Which is exactly why I needed to move out to move on.) I loved her. Thoroughly, unconditionally, and completely.

I found her in the kitchen, crying, flour spread across the floor, milk spattered around her feet. I felt her distress wash over me in waves, and my blood turned cold when I sensed the reason. _What the hell? She was upset about me? _She was giving off a confusing wave of energy – despair, love, hope, and the crumbling façade of denial. Since I struggled finding the words to articulate feelings I did understand, I did the only thing I could do in a situation where I understood nothing. I put my hand on her shoulder and said her name. "Rachel?"

"I'm so tired, Ivy. I'm just so tired." She turned to me, her eyes and nose red, and stepped forward into my arms. My heart hammered in my chest, but I couldn't move. I felt her breath on my skin, the lines of her body pressed against me, and felt the beating of her heart. I'd longed to be close enough to feel her heartbeat for so long, my mind almost couldn't take it in. Her arms circled my waist. I stopped breathing, closing my eyes, struggling for equilibrium as the world swirled around me. I whispered her name. "Rachel?" It was a question on my lips as I attempted to orient my reality in light of this new development.

She shuddered in my arms, "I'm sorry. Oh my God, Ivy. I'm so sorry." Her grasp around me tightened, and I felt her hands move up my back, holding me closer. I finally breathed out. I couldn't move my arms from my sides. I was so completely overwhelmed, not a single instinct kicked in. Contrary to what others might believe, my default reaction was not anger. It was deadening myself. Numbing. Shutting down completely. I strove for so many years not to feel anything; the reaction was comfortable and easy. Some awareness began to creep back, and I raised my hands to push her away from me. I tipped her chin up and wiped a tear from her face. My God, I couldn't handle seeing her cry. Witnessing her tears left me frozen, unmoving. I hated myself for so many reasons, but my inability to comfort her when she cried was top of my list. I wished I could tell her how I felt. I wished I could tell her that I loved the way she walked, and talked, and held her fork to eat. I wished I could tell her I loved the look on her face as she bent over her spell pot, muttering to herself. I wished I could tell her that I sat at my computer, watching her slyly out of the corner of eyes, my hand trembling on the mouse, longing to run my hands over the length of her body, worshiping her flesh. I longed to see her with her body arched and her head thrown back. I longed to hear the sound of her pleasure, and I wanted to give that to her. I supposed she thought I wanted her blood, and my virus did, certainly, but my soul longed to pull her pleasure from her. I wanted to watch that pleasure peak and recede, over and over again.

I wished I could tell her I loved the sound of her doing laundry, humming softly to a tune only she knows. I wished I could tell her I missed her freckles, and longed to kiss the small wrinkles emerging around her eyes when she smiled. I longed to tell her I'd loved her from the moment I'd seen her, and would for the rest of my life. I wished I could tell her that her tears wrenched my gut, and left me paralyzed. But I couldn't. I never could. And finally, she was in my arms, asking me for something I thought she'd never want, and I still felt too broken to say anything other than, "It's just milk and flour."

"It's not that and you know it," she mumbled, dropping her eyes again. I tilted her chin up again, and rested my forehead against hers, stooping over. My God. I'd longed for this moment for so long, and now she was doing this. Whatever this might be, and with Rachel, it's never entirely clear. For all I knew, this could truly be about wanting a blood balance sans sex. This could be about a spell she stirred that she got wrong. Jesus – it could be about anything and it could change in an instant. Nina. Suddenly, I thought about Nina. And I bit my lip, not able to meet Rachel's eyes. "You have terrible timing, you know?" I told her, my heart pounding. _What was she doing?_

"I'm so sorry," she said, trying to pull me to her. Rachel might have been able to bend the laws of nature and channel a ridiculous amount of ley line energy through her body, but physically, I was a lot stronger. And I held my ground.

"It's just so you," I said, and she shrugged, reaching for the collar of my shirt, pulling me to her. I let her. At least she wasn't denying it. Then the air shifted. Her desire washed over me, and arousal shot from my head to my toes. My body hummed, and my core shuddered. She smelled so good, and I longed to sink my teeth into the flesh of her, neck claiming her as my own. I met her eyes, and she met my gaze, unflinching, fearless and I heard my name falling from her lips, "Ivy…" I'd dreamed of her saying my name like that, inviting me to devour her. She reached from my collar to my face, her hands trembling as she touched my cheeks. Her arousal was intoxicating and I didn't think I could resist. I shuddered, unable to contain my feelings. As she pulled my face closer, an ice cold fear trampled through my body. _What was she doing?_

I pulled her hands from my face, lacing my fingers with hers, intimate, but truly to keep them off of me. I took a step back, trying to steady myself. I couldn't do this. If she changed her mind, if she stopped once I let go, once I opened myself, I'd die of shame. I'd never recover. I had to accept what was, what had been, and move on. That's what I needed to do. I tried to my force my eyes back to hers, when she said, "I'm sorry, Ivy. I'm an idiot." She was so earnest, so serious, standing there in front of me with flour in her hair. _So Rachel…_ and I smiled weakly. God, l loved her.

"You even have flour in your hair." I told her, running my hand through her frizzy red hair, trying to pull it out. It wasn't working. "This requires a shower." She kept her gaze fixed on my eyes, and lunged. There wasn't much delicate about Rachel. She moved through life like a summer storm, a force of nature, and she lunged at my lips with that same ferocity, catching me off guard. Her hands wrapped in my hair, pulling me to her. I felt her tongue asking for entrance in my mouth, but refused to allow it… until I heard her moan. It was throaty. Authentic, and it emerged from deep inside, and she pulled herself up the length of me, nearly hanging from my neck. I felt her breasts skid over mine, and her hips against my own. It was too much. My blood was on fire with a burning desire to taste her and claim her. I yanked her to me, owning her, and lifted her to the counter. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and our mouths drank each other in. I grasped her gorgeous ass, and pulled her harder against me. I was kissing Rachel, and she was kissing me back. An unfamiliar emotion tugged me back into myself, and I watched it unfurl its ugly head, slithering up through my guts, exploding into my chest. I felt Rachel's tears on my cheeks, and heard her sob in my mouth. Her hands felt so good – like I thought they would. Warm but not soft. Firm. Strong. She wanted me, and I couldn't breathe. The world turned upside down, and I lost my balance, and felt myself slipping from my body, sinking, as the vertigo took me again. My name emerged reverently from her lips, "Ivy…" and I yanked away, overwhelmed. _What was she doing?_

I found the stove behind me, grasping it so tightly my fingers hurt. "What are you doing?" She leaped towards me, skittering to a halt, holding herself back.

"Ivy, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to hurt you. I..." she paused. "My God, Ivy. All this time you thought you were the monster. And it was me." She dropped her head. "I'm sorry. I know you're falling in love with Nina, and I know you've let go of me. This is so unfair of me, and I'm sorry. It's just... the idea of you leaving, the idea of you not being here …I felt it in San Francisco, and it hurt...but we came home and nothing really changed. Glenn didn't matter, not really, and I knew it. Daryll either. I just didn't care. But Nina..." she said her name with barely veiled contempt. "It feels like that can be real, and feeling that, was like being bitch slapped by the banshee. I was in your chair tonight while you were out, and I realized..." Her voice trailed off, and I needed her to finish. I stepped forward, demanding an answer. I wanted to know. I had to know. I had to hear it. _Tell me, Rachel. Now._

"Realized what?" I took another step forward, emboldened.

Once again, she held my gaze. "That I love you. That you're home to me." I had thought that would help me regain my strength, my dominance, and reclaim the power I always used to protect myself. But with the words, the anger, the charge dissipated and I wanted to crawl into her arms and cry. I wanted her to wrap her arms around me and tell me it was real, that she'd never leave, and she'd love me forever. I wanted to dominate, to leverage my fury to protect myself but I could not. I could only whisper her name. "Rachel…" I wanted to run as far away as I could. The reality of what was happening overwhelmed me, and my body ached. Who would think that love could hurt this much? That getting what you wanted would drive spikes through your chest? "Rachel…" I fought a sob, and she was back again, her arms around my neck, her lips, tasting like cinnamon and chocolate, were pressed against mine. I kissed her back with all the pent up emotion I had in me, and scooped her up in my arms before she could change her mind.

I would claim her as mine, finally, and as I kicked open the door to my bedroom, I felt her shudder in my arms, her lips never leaving mine. I laid her gently down and said something. I'm not sure what. I only know that in the moment I saw her laying on my bed, stretched out, open and waiting for me my fear rose again. She kissed me, holding me nestled between her thighs, and arched into me. She responded to my words with, "I give you this. You can have all of me." She pressed my face to her neck, asking me to bite her, but I resisted. I didn't just want her blood. I wanted more. And I'd get that first.

I looked at her face, flushed, her chest, rising and falling rapidly, and tears spilled without my bidding. I loved her. And she wanted me – finally. I had to be sure, one more time, after so many years of wanting this. "I can touch you?" And she nodded, as I pulled her clothes from her. Her small breasts lay bare in front of me. Her flat stomach called for my touch. I ran my hands over her body, in awe. Her skin, pale and perfect, rose with goose bumps under my stare and she blushed. She pulled me back to her, kissing me with so much emotion I thought my heart would break. She pulled at my shirt, and I helped, yanking it over my head while she fumbled with my belt buckle. I stripped, quickly, and before returning to her, pulled her underwear down her legs. She gasped and blushed, clearly realizing she'd not maintained her pubic hair in quite some time. The red curls glistened, long and unruly, and she said, "I've been distracted." God, she was hairy. I smiled, and she swatted at me, as if we were still just friends, teasing each other. I didn't care, and longed to run my fingers and tongue through the curls. I caught her mouth with mine.

I slipped a thigh between hers, and felt her wet against my leg. I noted her gasp. She pressed against me, frantic, and kissed me harder. I pulled away, kissing her neck and collarbone, my tongue and lips and teeth worshipping her skin. She pressed her sex against my thigh with greater intensity and I closed my eyes for a moment, smelling her, before I took her breast into my mouth. I felt her arousal spread across my leg as she rocked against me. I slipped down, my mouth on her stomach, her belly button, and I felt her energy shift and a wave of her love wash over me, our aura already beginning to blend. I caught a sob, and her fingers grasped at my hair. I wanted the taste of her on my tongue and moved before she could stop me. I was worried she would.

I breathed her in and plunged forward, the first taste of her on my lips extraordinary. She was shocked, her eyes widening as they met mine, but she offered no protestation. She tightened her hold on my hair, holding my gaze as I struck her center with my tongue, worshiping her with my mouth. The shock in her eyes turned to pleasure. She threw her head back, and I spread her wider, lifting her hips further on my shoulders, and slipped three fingers inside her. She liked that, I mused, listening to her moans. I wanted to smile, but my lips were otherwise preoccupied. Inside, she was warm and wet, and I felt my way around, seeking the spot that would send her over the edge. I'd never slept with a witch before, but I'd heard enough to know what I was looking for. She leaned up on her elbows and reached down, pulling my fingers further into her. Her eyes met mine, and I knew she wanted to be filled completely, and I slipped another finger inside her and her elbows collapsed and her hips rocked, arching upward. "Ivy…" she gasped my name. Her essence spilled into my mouth, and I watched her stomach clench and contract as her orgasm washed over her. "Oh my god, Ivy!" I'd dreamed of hearing my name on her lips like this. I drank her in, like I would her blood, thinking I'd known Rachel would be a squirter. She met my amused eyes and reached down for me, yanking me upward to her. She captured my lips, wrapping her thighs around me, her body shuddering still.

Her hands were frantic on my back and face as she rode her climax out to its farthest possible end. Again, she uttered my name, kissing me, and I pulled her tightly to me, one arm under her hips, the other her shoulders. I pressed my sex to her own, and captured her lips. I rubbed against her wetness, the thrilling feel of it against my own sending spikes of arousal through me. I wanted to sink my teeth into her neck, but even naked in her arms, hated having such cravings. I wished I could have this and have it be enough. She responded to my intent, grinding her hips into me, and pressing my lower back with her hands, adding pressure. Her thoughts shifted and I knew it. She pulled my face to her neck, breaking our kiss. She arched her hips and her neck up to me, hands on the side of my face. I resisted until she said, "Please. It's okay. You won't hurt me. I know you won't. You won't bind me. You won't hurt me. I give this to you."

I couldn't resist that, and slipped my teeth into her neck, her blood flowing into my mouth. She was willingly giving me this, knowing how I craved it, shame burning my face for only a few moments, until I felt her aura finish what it began earlier, and wrap itself around me. She pulled my soul into hers, and she still didn't realize that happened because she made it happen. The uniting of auras was not something I'd ever experienced, and I'd concluded it was her doing the last time it happened. Whether she realized it or not, she opened herself wide for me, and invited me in, swallowing me whole. I rest in her arms, between her thighs, rocking and fearful of taking too much. I slipped from her neck. I didn't want to hurt her. I didn't want to be carried away by my bloodlust. But she protested, pressing my face down again. "Ivy, don't stop. Please..."

Emboldened by her plea, I slipped back into her. She squirmed and arched and cried out under me, the smell of her pleasure rolling off her skin, the sensation swirling through our joined auras. I rode it out, feeling her wet sex grind harder and harder against me. My own pleasure mounted, and she felt it to, resting her hands on my hips, pressing me to her. I let go of her neck as I came, and she accompanied me. I grasped her face with my hands, kissing her and she met my hands with her own. I lay between her legs, cupping her face gently, kissing her, and she suspended us in our united aura. My God, she was powerful. For the first time in my life, I felt thoroughly, and authentically loved protected. We lay like that for quite a while, until I rolled from her, wanting her to sleep, and gathered her smaller body into my arms, pulling her against her me, twining my hands with hers. I saw her eyes flutter closed, and I lay there, listening to her breath. Tears rolled down my face, and I memorized every sensation in case she woke tomorrow and said "Never again." The feel of her back against my breasts. The weight of her fingers between my own. The smell of her arousal, coating us both and my bed sheets. The flutter of her eyelids as she slept, her lips parted just enough. The striking red of her frizzy red hair where I buried my face in it. Sleep did not come quickly, and I didn't want it to.

I woke as Rachel slipped from bed, padding nude out the door. I didn't dare move, for fear of what she might say this morning. I heard her moving around in the bathroom across the hall, and saw her walk by my door, her robe furling behind her. I listened to her rustling around to make coffee in the kitchen, and closed my eyes tighter. The smell of coffee in the room stirred me, but I didn't move. Somehow she'd known I wasn't to sleep, and I felt her hands on my head, pushing the hair from my forehead. "I don't think you're really still to sleep. You just wanted coffee in bed." It made me grin, and I opened an eye. "I knew it!"

I untangled the sheets from my legs and rose from the opposite side of the bed, aware of her eyes on my back as I sought relief in the bathroom, and a toothbrush. She didn't seem to be full of regret, but it was always so hard to know with Rachel. So hard to know for sure. Her body might have whispered "Yes" for years but her mind refused to acknowledge it. I couldn't be certain nothing had changed. I stood with my hands on the bathroom counter, and took steadying breaths. I slipped on my robe and walked back to her.

She sat, grinning, sipping her coffee. That she saw my fear was obvious on her face as she watched me approach her slowly. I sat next to her on the bed, and she handed me my coffee. And then she reached for my hand. She smiled up, then, into my eyes and said, "I'm sure, Ivy. Finally." My heart lurched and I met her eyes, longing to tell her how much I loved her. Whisper sweet nothings and what not. Instead I just leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. She sat her coffee down and placed both of her hands on my face, and when I pulled away she kissed the end of my nose. "I really need to shave today." I laughed, and she threw her arms around my neck, making me spill my coffee.


End file.
